The Cowards Way Out
by DracoWinchester7237
Summary: What does it mean for a certain Slytherin when he stumbles upon something tragic, and how far is he willing to go to change it? harry/Draco, hints at Ron/Hermione rated for violent themes. Complete!
1. Red

The atmosphere in the great hall was suffocating. Nothing on the surface appeared out of place, it was only a sickening uneasy feeling that snaked through Draco's entire being. He couldn't place it, he couldn't figure out what made the air so thick. It was too much. Draco stood and fled the Hall, ignoring the questioning looks of his friends. Ignoring the stares of those who were not his friends. Ignoring the empty seat at the table across the hall. Ignoring all of this, because something somewhere was not right.

The silent halls of Hogwarts were a welcome contrast to the noisy affairs back at the feast. He much preferred to be alone away from the prying eyes and whispered insults that were constantly thrown at him. His mind kept traveling back to the empty seat and found himself walking faster. He wasn't sure where he was going but wherever he ended up he needed to get there faster. He needed to get there now. He needed to, he stopped in the middle of the hallway, he needed to breathe. His chest tightened up, he couldn't seem to get air into his lungs. No, he couldn't do this here. To his right were some classrooms that he hadn't been in for a few years, and to his left, conveniently located, were the men's bathrooms. He heard voices behind him and panicked. It felt like all the walls were closing in on him, and he quickly tore into the bathrooms ripping off his cloak and dropping it on the floor. His breathing came harsh and heavy and panic clouded every sense. He splashed water in his face and yanked at his tie desperate to get some air. He stared into the sink where drops of water fell from the tips of his hair and made satisfying plink noises onto the porcelain.

There was a sound, so low, almost none existent and if it hadn't been for the massive amount of attention Draco was paying to the noises surrounding him he probably wouldn't have noticed. It wasn't obvious and for a moment he thought he made it up. He stood upright and listened. It took a few moments, few moments that he later regretted hesitating on. But soon he heard what had made him pause. It sounded like someone was breathing. But it was so light. Draco turned around to face the room. Who dared to interrupt in his moment of weakness? Nobody could be seen, only stall doors and shadows. But still, a shallow breathing could be heard.

"Who's there?" Draco said internally flinching at the sound of his voice cutting through the almost silence. He was about to say something else but his words died in his throat and the panic that had all but dissipated, came rushing back. He has been a student at Hogwarts for 6 years now. And hed been witness for some awful things done at the hands of Voldemort and his father. But nothing really came close to what he could see now. To what he had blindly run past just moments ago. The entire room seemed stained. Of course, it was not the entire room but Draco's tunnel vision made it seem like the entire room. Red, Draco's favorite color. Red splattered on the floor, not 2 feet from where he was standing. Red droplets leading from the crude looking splatter to a stall door. A door with half a red handprint smeared on the edge. Red. Draco didn't know what he was doing. In his head, he knew he needed to run and to get help and to not touch anything just to get a teacher to handle this, but there was a pull. His feet moved without permission, following the path of red, going against everything his mind was screaming at him. He reached out his hand to push the door open. A part of him was terrified of what he would find hiding behind the stall door. There was, however, a part of him that knew. The door swung open and everything inside of him fell to pieces.

A boy a little shorter than himself was leaning against the side of the stall. His raven hair fell in his eyes and a pair of glasses lay abandoned next to him. None of this is what broke Draco down in ways he didn't think possible. No, it was the red. Red poured out of and around the nastiest looking gashes Draco had ever seen on anyone's arms. Draco stood there for way too long.

"Draco..?" the whisper was so desperate and questioning and pure. The boy closed his eyes at the same time that Draco sank to his knees soaking his knees in red. Soaking his knees in blood.

"Potter open your eyes," he said, his voice shaking as he grabbed at the wounds on Harry's arms. "Damn it Potter opens your eyes," he said again. The blood didn't slow, just poured through Draco's fingers. This wasn't going to work. He slid his arms under Harry and scooped him up. He wasn't as heavy as he thought he should have been. Draco nearly slipped trying to get out of the stall. _Fuck,_ Draco thought. _Fuck, fuck,_ "FUCK" he finally screamed. He tore out of the room and into the hallway again. He needed to get Potter to the hospital wing. He started to run.

"Harry, Harry listen to me open your bloody eyes. Do you hear me Potter?" he grunted as he continued to run through the hallways. "Somebody please help me please!" he shouted, hoping he could get somebody's attention. The hospital wing was close, he was almost there, he knew he could make it. But he didn't know if Potter could make it.

Finally, he could see the doors. Yes, they were close. He burst through them with the last surge of energy and immediately collapsed on the ground still holding Potter up.

"Please please Madam Pomfrey we need help," he shouted into the empty hospital wing. No one was there. Of course not, she was sitting next to Dumbledore at the feast, of course she's not here she wouldn't need to be. Okay, he thought okay he needed to get to her now. He laid Harry down and tried not to look at the blood pooling on the white floor, he tried to erase the thought that Harry might already be gone. He ran again ran as fast as he could which admittedly was much faster without carrying the unconscious boy. Luckily the great hall was quite close to the hospital wing. He threw the doors to the great hall open and ran inside. He remembered the time in the first year when professor Quirrell ran into the great hall.

The entire room fell silent as Draco sank again to his knees. Dumbledore stood looking down at Draco, who was covered in blood.

"Harry, Harry Potter." he mumbled, "Help him please please help him, he's in the hospital wing." Draco gasped sucking in air that he didn't realize he had been holding his breath. "Don't just stand there! Bloody do something!" he shouted.

"Go on Poppy. Hurry." Dumbledore said as calm as he always was. She disappeared with a snap. "Everyone else go to your dormitories, now," he said exuding so much authority everyone was gone within seconds. Everyone except Draco and of course Harry's beloved friends who were already making their way over to him.

"I would be right in assuming you have no intention of retiring to your rooms for the evening?" Dumbledore asked them.

"We need to know what that death eater did to Harry." Ron spat viciously.

"I wouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions, Weasel," Draco said softly not putting near as much energy he usually put into fighting with the ginger boy.

"Enough. Let's move this conversation to my office."


	2. Stains

Draco stared at his hands, but they didn't look like his hands. They were stained in thick red and the sight made his stomach churn. An urgent conversation was going on around him and he knew most of it was questions for him, but he could only look at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. He started to scratch at his skin, he wanted the stains to go away, to disappear. He wanted it all to disappear.

"Mister Malfoy, if you could kindly explain what it is that happened?" Draco looked up slowly to meet the headmaster's eyes. He could practically feel the ginger boy glaring at him and in his head, he pictured him as Potter's guard dog, the thought caused his lips to twitch up in an almost smile.

"Something funny to you?" The lap dog made a noise that almost sounded like a growl, pulling a chuckle from Draco's throat.

"He's dead." Draco was laughing. "The boy who lived is dead." he marveled at the irony and it was all he could do to keep from sobbing. Of course he was dead. He had to be, with as much blood as was pooled in the bathroom and all over Draco and then the amount of time it took him to find somebody to help him, no there was no way even Harry Potter survived that mass amount of blood loss. He continued to scratch violently at his hands, his arms, and anything else that was dipped in red. "Your savior is gone." Draco choked on the last word. He looked up and stared at Dumbledore. "Isn't he?" He asked quietly. He wanted the headmaster to tell him he was wrong, to tell him, he's not dead, that this was all some trick the Weasley twins set up in retaliation for whatever stupid thing Draco had surely done at some point. Draco stared at Dumbledore, pleading with him in his head, until an unseen force jumped on him causing Draco to hit the ground, forcing the air from his lungs. Unseen sure, but a blur of fiery hair pretty much gave it away immediately.

"You killed him!" Ron spat in Draco's face but he did nothing to deny it. What was the point? Harry Potter is dead and nobody is going to believe anything Draco had to say. Besides who would honestly believe that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, The golden boy, The savior of the damn Wizarding world, would try and take his own life? The realization of that overwhelmed Draco. Was that honestly and truly what happened. Harry Potter tried to kill himself? Harry Potter had slit his wrists in such a horrific way, try as he might Draco couldn't erase the picture now embedded in his memory. Within seconds of Ron's outburst, pain exploded across his face. Draco didn't try to stop him, He just laid there taking everything the weasel could throw at him, knowing it wasn't enough, knowing it could never be enough. It wasn't long enough before Ron was hauled off of him, leaving Draco lying on the floor, dazed and awaiting the next strike.

"Maybe it would be best if we talked on our own, Mister Malfoy?" Dumbledore offered, ' _wasn't that a brilliant idea_ ' Draco thought, forcing himself up into an almost sitting position. Dumbledore extended his hand as if to help him up. Draco only ignored it and rose gracefully to his feet. ' _It wasn't like a Malfoy to ever be anything but graceful_ ', his mother's voice spoke in the back of his mind from a distant memory of his childhood back when it was still decent. He shoved the intruding memory away as Dumbledore spoke again, "Mister Weasley, Miss Granger please return to the Gryffindor common room, I assure you, you will be the first to know of any news concerning young Harry."

"We deserve to know what this rat did to Harry." Ron raged. Draco looked over to see The mud blood physically holding Ron's arms back to keep the weasel from pouncing on him again.

"Come on Ron." Hermione pulled at his arm. She looked like she was close to tears. Draco looked away. Seeing people cry made him very uncomfortable, it was something that was always looked down on in his home growing up.

"You better hope that he's okay Malfoy." the way he said his name made it sound like it was a dirty word. Draco looked away as the remaining two-thirds of the golden trio walked past him and out of Dumbledore's office.

"I didn't kill him," Draco whispered as Ron brushed past him. He met his eyes for a brief moment.

"If he's dead, I swear I will kill you," Ron growled again, ever the faithful lap dog.

"Ron, please." Hermione hiccuped.

"Enough MIster Weasley, I will send for you both soon," Dumbledore said.

the two started towards the door again, and Draco watched them. For not the first time in his life, he envied Potter. He envied the loyalty he so easily inspired. He envied the power he had so effortlessly. He envied most of all the perfect life he had, and he hated him. Who in their right mind would throw away such a life as Harry Potter's? He was mister perfect, he could get away with whatever he wanted. He was practically worshiped, who wouldn't want all of that? He was bloody rich. More than that, more than any of it, he was loved. Actually properly loved, by so many people. Draco couldn't say he knew what that felt like. What it felt like to even have one person care for him as deeply as the mud blood and the lap dog cared for Harry.

"Please sit," He said to Draco once the door was shut and the staircase was done spinning. It wasn't a question or an offer, the please was simply the sugar to make the pill easier to swallow. It was an order, a command. One like you would give an unruly house elf. He took on the same tone that his father used constantly, the only tone Draco's father ever took with him. "Orders were made to be followed, made to be listened to." Lucius had made that clear to him as a child. Draco looked at the armchair Dumbledore was gesturing to. Silenced stretched on as Draco took in the armchair in front of him for some reason to him it represented surrender. "What happened." He asked when it became apparent to him that he wasn't keen on following his orders.

"I don't know," Draco answered. It was a rather large armchair, probably comfortable too. He couldn't imagine actually sitting on it in the state he was in. If it had been his mother's and he elected to sit on her furniture covered in blood.. he grimaced at the thought.

"Mister Malfoy I understand how you must be feeling,"

"I don't know, Headmaster." Draco interrupted, It was covered in flowers. He had always found that furniture with printed pictures on it was unreasonably busy to look at. His mother would have loved a chair like this in her living room.

"Please, let me help you," he said. Anger welled up from somewhere deep in Draco. The chair blurred in his vision, the red roses bleeding together until again all he could see was red.

"I don't know" he screamed, whirling around to glare at Dumbledore. "Okay? I don't bloody know!" The Headmaster looked at him with pity radiating off of him and it filled the air, reacting badly with Draco's thick hatred and overwhelming anger. He took a few steps forward until he was leaning across the desk. "Don't. you. dare. fucking. pity. me. Old. Man." he said emphasizing each and every word through gritted teeth.

"This must be hard for you, I know," for the second time that day Draco's limbs moved without permission. Without thinking Draco brushed everything that was sitting on the ornate desk onto the floor. Glass shattered, from what? Draco didn't know and he didn't care to know.

"No, you don't know. You don't know and I don't know and none of this makes any fucking sense." Draco was screaming. "I don't know what happened." That wasn't quite true though, was it? He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Harry Potter had slit his own wrists. What he couldn't understand, was why. "I don't know why this happened," Draco said only slightly quieter than his previous screaming. He couldn't look up from the desk to see the pity in Dumbledore's eyes. He just couldn't. He didn't need to be pitied. He didn't want it. Without another word, he stalked out of the office. Paying no attention to the headmaster calling his name behind him.


	3. On a

The hallways always seemed bigger when they were empty like this. Like they were looming over whoever dared crossed them. Most of the students at Hogwarts found the castle creepy like this, dark and full of shadows, alive in its own way. Most avoided being alone in the dark like this. Most everyone, except Draco who grew rather fond of the abandoned feeling the castle gave off at night. He loved the haunted feeling it had as the castle came alive. He loved the solitary sound of his footsteps, he loved the shadows that each sculpture threw off. He loved the moving portraits, some of whom knew him quite well and would ask him how he was doing or warn him if any teachers were out that night. Tonight was different from most. Nearly every figure in every portrait was awake with frantic whispering. So frantic in fact that the sound filled the halls almost undoubtedly about Potter.

"Draco dear!" Draco didn't even slow to look at the portrait of the three ladies and one man at tea time. The man loved to talk to Draco and would always call him dear as if he was one of the ladies himself. But tonight Draco didn't want to talk he was through talking. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began to walk quicker. He had no idea where he was heading. Just away, just away from the pity in Dumbledore's eyes, away from the accusing in the Weasley's voice. Away from grangers sniffling. Away from the image forever imprinted in his mind. Away from all the damned emotion that bubbled up inside him, emotion that he had long since bottled away in the deepest part of his subconscious.

Emotion over what, though? He's seen terrible things before, hell he's done terrible things, and never bat an eye. Over potter? No. Potter is his worst enemy, was his worst enemy. Sorrow bloomed in Draco's chest as he revised his thoughts. Was not is. Was, no longer his enemy. He shook his head of the thought trying to erase the words from existence. It is a particularly sad word, isn't it? 'Was' meaning the end of something, looking back at something that isn't anymore. Like a relationship, an event, or a life. Like Harrys life. Harry's life that Draco didn't care about.

A lump rose in Draco's throat and he fought hard to swallow it. He didn't cry. Malfoys don't cry. He chanted this in his head over and over until a single hot tear managed to escape and with it, his levee broke. Tears streamed down his face without permission and he ducked into the first door he came across.

Tears!? Bloody Tears? Why the fuck was he crying. He closed the door behind him and slid to the floor hugging his knees. Why was he crying? 'Because he's dead' he thought to himself bitterly. Yes, so Harry Potter's dead that's good that should be a good thing shouldn't it? No more pressure from his father to get information about the damned boy, no more being involved in the dark lord's plot to kill him, because he was already dead. He was the bane of Draco's existence and he hated him so why in the fuck is he sitting here crying over his death like a bloody girl?!

Draco brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. No, he wasn't crying for harry. He was crying for him. Crying for the childhood he never had, crying for his eleven-year-old self, locked in his father's dungeons for breaking something expensive. Crying over his broken life. Sobbing over Harry. Well if this is what he was going to do for awhile he might as well hand himself over to it.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, sobs racking his body, but when the shaking finally stopped and he allowed himself to sit up, daylight streamed through the high windows of the classroom. His head throbbed behind his eyes and his breath came ragged, ripping through his raw throat. His body ached as he uncurled it limb by limb. He pulled himself up and took in the room he was in.

He was mistaken to call it a classroom, it was mostly empty, no desks or blackboards, no books. It must be a room used for storage, he thought, there were a few objects hidden under white sheets. But other than that it was empty. Curiosity had always been one of Draco's weak points as he walked over to the first of the objects covered in cloth. He moved the sheet off and the trunk beneath it shook violently causing Draco's stomach to lurch. There was only one thing Draco knew that could do that and it was the one thing he never quite had to handle. He pulled the sheet back over the shaking trunk and moved onto the next covered object.

This one was quite a bit taller than him and he had to forcefully throw the sheet in order to reveal what lay beneath it. It was a large mirror that his mother would have adored, and for good reason, it was beautifully made. Draco would have to blind not to see that. He glanced into the mirror for a second and saw his puffy face and immediately felt ashamed. But he was caught off guard when the picture started to change. That's when he realized what this was. The mirror of Erised. Draco didn't know if he wanted to see what the mirror would show him. He didn't know if he was wasn't sure why he felt that way but before he could question his own thought process he turned around and stalked angrily out of the room kicking the shaking trunk on his way past pretending that it didn't hurt his foot as bad as it did. He walked out into the hall and started towards the dungeons, to the Slytherin common room. He could hear voices bouncing around the corridors but they sounded far off. Draco ignored them but quickened his pace.

The common room was almost empty only a few seventh years looked up when he entered. He shot a glare at them and they both quickly went back to what they were doing. Being the prince of Slytherin did have its perks he thought as he made his way to the dormitories. The dormitories which should have been empty. And was save for one figure lounged out on Draco's bed. Draco was too tired to be rightfully angry.

"Figured you'd come back eventually." Blaise Zabini said cooly

"Sod off Zabini I need sleep." Draco cleared his throat in hopes he'd sound normal. The other boy looked at him for a long moment causing Draco to squirm in his spot. Until finally he hopped off of Draco's bed.

"Fine. But you have a lot of explaining to do."

"What the hell are you getting at?" Draco said fiercely

"Oh, I don't know maybe you could tell me what happened to Potter?" Blaise was taller than him by a few inches and it infuriated him to no end to have to look up at somebody. People should have to look up to him.

"Potters dead. Go write to your death eater parents and start celebrating the news." Draco laid back in his bed, fully clothed on top of the covers.

"You know I knew you were a git. Everyone knows you're a git and you have your strange rivalry with Potter but you're not a killer. I know that better than anyone. And you know better than anyone that I haven't spoken to my death eater parents in 4 years. So once you realize that you have all of one friend in this god forsaken hell hole I'll be there waiting for you to come to your bloody sense." zabini stood there waiting for him to say something, probably waiting for him to apologize. The jump was back in Draco's throat and he feared that the second he opened his mouth to say anything then that would be it and he'd start to cry again and Malfoys didn't cry. Instead, he just rolled over to face away from his friend who he could here cursing under his breath as he walked out of the room.

It wasn't long before sleep enveloped him, filling his head with nightmarish memories he'd rather forget.


	4. Cold

Nobody knew what happened in the way that everybody knew what happened. They all had their own version of what went down the night their savior almost died. Almost died, Draco scoffed at the thought. There was no almost about it. Harry Potter was dying if he was not already dead. It's been a little over a week since anyone heard anything about the health of harry potter.

Draco was ordered to stay in his common room. He sat on his bed and stared at the curtains that were pulled closed around him. Today's breakfast tray laid untouched at his feet. It was bad enough being sent to his room like a petulant child, it was another for them to have taken away his wand. 'Probation' they called it. A fancy word for saying the headmaster didn't trust him, but what else is new? He wasn't allowed to go to classes, he couldn't roam the corridors, hell he wasn't even allowed to send any letters. As if he had anyone to send letters to anyways. He couldn't sit still anymore. He couldn't look at the green curtains anymore. They reminded him too much of the boy he let die. Angered he ripped the silky curtains open and in a way that only a Malfoy could, he stalked out of the room.

The corridors were empty as he knew they would be. It was far too early for any student in their right mind to be awake. Which is probably why he enjoyed waking up before the sun. he smirked at the idea of being completely out of his mind and shoved his hands in his pockets, he wasn't sure where to go, there was nowhere he could go. Not until they were able to wake Harry up and get his account of what happened that night.

He thought briefly about going to visit Harry in the hospital wing but immediately disregarded that idea. He felt sure he'd be barred from entering and sent straight back to his room. Draco growled remembering when he went back to talk to Dumbledore the day after. He told him everything that happened, everything he saw. It didn't matter what Draco had to say. Dumbledore, like everyone else in this hellhole, already knew what must have happened. Draco had asked to see him and the headmaster shut him down, took his wand and sent him to the Slytherin common room. That was the last conversation he has had with anyone save Blaise.

He walked aimlessly for awhile not worried about running into anybody for at least another hour. He was completely lost in thought when he found himself standing in front of the very place he never wanted to see again. A place that would be stained in his memory for the rest of his life. A place he was heading straight into.

A place that looked exactly the same as it had that night, complete with a blood trail from the sink to the stall door. Had nobody even bothered cleaning up? Draco stood froze just inside the door. It felt too much like it had that night. He felt sure if he took a few steps he'd see Harry Potter lying on the stall floor. It took him an embarrassing amount of time for him to realize that he wouldn't see the boy here. That Harry was in the hospital wing. Draco felt an intense need to see what was inside the stall. Like he knew there would be something there. Something important. He forced his feet to move until the bloody stall came into view. And he almost forgot just how much blood there had been. As if his dreams weren't bad enough without that reminder. He found himself crouching down to further examine the dried blood staining the floor. He looked closer when a flickering caught his eye.

It was a single shard of glass. He picked the glass up and examined it closely. The edges were jagged and sharp and sent chills through Draco, thinking about how Harry cut himself open with such a crude weapon. He flipped the glass over and saw it was a broken piece of a mirror. It clearly reflected the bags under Draco's eyes. He looked away and quickly shoved it into his pocket. He turned his attention to the wall of sinks behind him, looking for which mirror harry had shattered to get his weapon, but none of the mirrors were even slightly cracked. So he didn't get the piece from this room then. It dawned on Draco that this must have been planned. He must have held onto the piece of broken mirror for a while before he brought himself to do it. That thought filled Draco with a sense of dread as he slid his hand into his pocket and wrapped it around the shard. He knew he should take it straight to Dumbledore, but the thought of handing it over felt wrong somehow. It felt like throwing harry under the bus, but in reality, it would be throwing himself under the bus, showing up in the headmaster's office with the murder weapon in hand. With that kind of proof, Draco would find himself locked away in Azkaban quicker than he could say 'I didn't do it'. He needed to show someone though, didn't he? Or maybe he didn't, maybe he could keep this to himself. He didn't know what it would do to the wizarding world if they knew their savior tried to kill himself. Draco shook his head and headed out of the bathroom hand still wrapped around the broken glass deep in his pocket. He felt afraid to let it go for some horrible reason.

"Ah, mister Malfoy. I quite thought I would find you here. I think we should talk in my office, if you wouldn't mind following me." the always calm voice of the headmaster came from behind him. He sighed and turned to follow the man down the hallway. Ignoring the looks of the students just waking up for breakfast. Oh, he could hear them now, 'he finally has proof Draco tried to kill Harry Potter' Draco growled under his breath and looked straight ahead.

For the third time in a little over a week, he found himself sitting in an oversized armchair across the ornate wooden desk from Albus Dumbledore. And for the third time, he stared only at his hands.

"We have a problem young Malfoy." Draco didn't say anything, any retort he could come up with would just be turned back around on him. "You can move freely into the lavatory where Harry was, injured?" Draco noticed the way he hesitated before the word injured.

"You mean where he slit his arms open?" Draco sneered. He was tired of nobody opening there eyes and seeing the situation for what it really was. "Yeah, I opened the door and walked in. why has nobody bothered to clean up the mess?"

"Because nobody can get to it." silence followed for a long while, broken only by a door creaking open behind him. He didn't bother looking to see who had entered, he was too busy letting that statement sink in.

"You wished to see me?" Draco never thought he'd be so ecstatic to hear the monotone voice of his head of house.

"Yes please have a seat, Severus." Dumbledore extended his arm to the empty chair next to Draco.

"I'm fine thanks." the potions master answered.

"It seems young Malfoy is able to get into the lavatory where Harry was attacked," Dumbledore said evenly. "I was hoping you could tell me how that's possible since he had no wand on him."

"Well it's possible he was the one to cast the spell in the first place, though I highly doubt it. This spell is much more advanced than almost any student here could cast." the potions master answered, almost managing to sound bored. Draco felt like he wanted to argue that he could, in fact, cast whatever spell they were talking about, but at the same time, it wouldn't help his current predicament if he argued that point.

"Draco would you consent to take Veritaserum?"

"Absolutely not." Snape interrupted before Draco could even open his mouth. "Have you forgotten that potion is, in fact, illegal?" Snape demanded, leaning over the desk until he was practically in Dumbledore's face.

"It's illegal to force someone to take it I was simply asking a question and I'd like it if you gave Draco a chance to answer for himself."

"I wouldn't mind." it came out a whisper. And he flinched away from the glare his godfather shot at him.

"Very well. Severus, I expect the proper amount by tonight. That will be all."

"Sir, I really wish you would reconsider surely if he's willing to take it that means he's telling the truth isn't that enough, can't you trust him now?"

"I said that will be all, Severus." the headmaster repeated looking straight at Draco making him wonder who exactly he was dismissing. He didn't have to wonder long as Snape turned on his heel and stormed out of the room cursing under his breath. Draco knew why his godfather was so angry the effects of the truth serum were not exactly considered pleasant but he would bare it if it meant somebody would believe him.

"May I go now," Draco demanded, standing from the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Straight to your dorms Draco and I'll see you tonight, I'll send a house elf for you when it's time," Dumbledore said looking down at some papers on his desk and dismissing him with a wave of his hand. Draco glared at the old man and turned to stalk out of the room. 'Straight to the dorms' his ass. He thought to himself as he headed down the corridor.

"Oi! Malfoy!" he heard someone calling behind him and recognized the weasel right away. He turned down the first corridor he could find and picked up a sprint trying to lose the redhead. The last thing he needed today was to deal with potters bloody followers. He could hear footsteps running far behind him but knew he'd catch up eventually, Draco made a few more turns and ducked into the first door he could find pushing it quietly closed.

Without looking he knew where he was. Same place he had fled to the last time he ran away from the headmaster. He turned to face the bare room. immediately he looked to the golden mirror, the sheet pooled on the floor still, from when he ripped it off. Then, from where he stood he noticed it. And how could he not have seen it before? He walked closer, fishing the broken shard of glass from his pocket. The mirror was missing a piece. And he got closer he knew in his bones that the glass in his hand would fit perfectly. He reached his free hand out to feel the edges of the hole, ignoring the blur as the mirror prepared to show him his deepest desire. He traced the empty spot wondering how Harry had broken the mirror. It was said that the mirror couldn't break. He pulled his hand back the same time the image in the mirror cleared.

He was standing alone for a minute, but he already knew something about his appearance seemed different, happier. He was wearing a red t-shirt and muggle jeans, and the pale skin on his left arm was clean. The mark was no longer there. The mark that now itched under the sleeve of his shirt. He almost thought that was it. That his deepest desire was simply not to be marked. However, a figure was walking up behind his reflection. Their face was blurred at first but in his soul, Draco knew, just like he always knew that everything in his life would always come down to this. And sure enough, his face came into focus, framed by messy dark hair, and he was smiling. Harry Potter was in the mirror, and he was laughing and pushing at Draco. They were happy together, and the Harry in front of him entwined his fingers with Draco and he wished so much that he could be that Draco.

"Malfoy!" the angered voice called. Draco turned away from the mirror stunned, he didn't want to see more and instead decided to face the angry redhead who was now practically charging him. Draco didn't fight back as Ron attacked him, knocking him to the floor and for the second time in a week he proceeded to punch and kick any part of Draco he could reach. Draco took it until Ron had finally tired himself out.

He pushed himself shakily to his feet and brushed out his clothes and ignored the underlying throb that engulfed his entire body. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the mirror version of himself leaning in to kiss Harry before the picture faded and he could see himself as he was now. Beaten, marked, bloody. He looked back at the Weasley, and Granger, who he hadn't noticed before.

"Are you done now?" he asked, hating the way his voice came out choked. The redhead said nothing and Draco took it to mean yes. Draco pushed past Weasley and started out the door.


	5. Black

"Oi! Where are you going?" Ron bellowed at Draco's back.

"To see Harry." Draco rasped, stopping only to nod at Granger who nodded back at him.

"Well go with you," she said not even stopping to look at the shocked weasel, instead, turning and exiting the room just ahead of him. They walked through the hall side by side in silence. At some point, Weasley must have pulled himself together because he was now just a few paces behind them. Draco knew he must have looked miserable, and wondered if that was what people were staring at or if it was the fact that he was walking peacefully next to Hermione Granger. For good measure, he glared at a group of first and second years, satisfied when they looked properly terrified and stopped staring at him.

Draco picked up his pace nearing more of a jog than a walk, Harry had been in a coma for a week now but for some reason, it felt like Draco was watching the last few grains of sand drain out of an hourglass. He had done well to follow his gut over the past several days. They led him to find Harry, to the mirror, and now his gut was leading him to the hospital wing as if he was on one end of a rope being pulled. He had to hand it to Granger. She was very good at keeping up and seemed to sense his urgency, as they neared the hospital wing they both broke out into a dead sprint at the same time leaving Ron calling for them to wait up, behind them.

Draco was filled with horrible flashbacks as he remembered the last time he ran through these doors. Carrying the boy who lived in his arms. Feeling the blood on his hands and arms and soaking through his shirt. He remembered vividly how he yelled himself horse for anyone to help them. It was with the same panic in his chest that he burst into the hospital wing again.

The room, unlike the last time he had been in here, was full of people. People Draco hadn't ever seen here at Hogwarts before and up in the middle of them all was Madam Pomfrey, directing everyone and answering questions. It dawned on Draco then that they would have called for doctors from St. Mungo's and probably other wizarding hospitals to help bring their savior back to life.

Nobody took notice of the three teenagers standing in the doorway, and Draco used this to his advantage. He walked straight to the closed privacy curtains, sure that Harry would be behind them. He was within three steps of pulling the curtains back when he was noticed.

"Just what do you think you're doing Mister Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey asked sternly. It was clear the way she positioned herself in between him and the curtains that she wasn't going to let him pass her easily.

"I need to see him." he cringed at how pathetic he sounded. At how un-Malfoy he sounded. He wondered idly to himself if he could even be considered a Malfoy anymore. Being in love with Harry Potter was sure to put a strain on his relationship with his father, wouldn't it? He tried not to think about the consequences of his current situation.

"Not possible I'm afraid, though I can fix you up real quick while the other doctors do some more tests on Mister Potter, come on up on the bed you go." she motioned to a bed just behind him and he nodded and let himself be led over to it. He cast a quick glance at Ron and Hermione who looked about at white as ghosts and it occurred to him they haven't been allowed here yet. They must not have known how serious it was. He sighed and let the mediwitch examine him. He bit his lip when she healed his broken nose rather than allowing himself to cry out in pain. Even if he wasn't a Malfoy he was still a Slytherin and Slytherins did not show that kind of weakness.

"How did this happen?" she asked not in her usual kind way. Draco glanced over at Ron and she followed his gaze pursing her lips. He looked back quickly.

"I started it. I picked a fight with him," he said quickly not wanting to get anyone in trouble. Not today at least. He'd find a way to get back at the redhead some other time.

"I see," she said. "Now Draco. I know you were the one who got me here. And I thank you for that. But nobody knows how exactly you found him. I know it might not be something you want to talk about I know the headmaster has told me you don't but I was hoping you wouldn't mind terribly sitting down and talking with me for a just a few minutes." she said as she pointed her wand towards Dracos black eye.

"No!" he exclaimed suddenly moving back a little. She looked offended and Draco quickly tried to cover it up. "No I mean, yes I'll sit down with you, I'll do whatever I can to save him, just please don't heal anything else," he said slowly. A good number of the doctors had looked up at his shout and he could feel a blush creeping up his neck.

"Now why wouldn't I?" she asked clearly frustrated.

"I deserved it trust me"He wanted to tell her he deserved it for not getting Harry here quick enough, for hesitating rather than bringing him straight here for being so horribly cold to him for the past seven years he wanted to tell her it would never be enough to punish him if the boy didn't live. "Can we go to your office now?" he asked siding off the bed and glancing around at all the people. Madam Pomfrey looked at him with pity in her eyes. He hated pity, but bit back the bitter taste of it and looked towards her office.

"Sure dear." And just like that, she was back to her normal mothering ways. She led him through the crowd of doctors, there must have been a good dozen of them crammed into the tight walkway between beds and whispered a few things to one of the younger looking doctors. Draco followed close behind and tried to gather his thoughts.

"Right then. Some privacy, would you like some tea?" she asked holding out a cup already full of steaming liquid. He took it, and took a seat in one of the armchairs, setting his tea down beside him. Her office was much different than the other teachers here. For one there wasn't a desk in between her and whomever she needed to speak with, instead, there was just a circle of about half a dozen mixed matched armchairs all facing each other. She took a seat in the one closest to Draco and turned it a bit to face him better. She tried handing him a biscuit but he turned it down, focused more on what he was about to say.

"You have to believe me." he started, looking down at the floor, Wringing his hands. "I don't know why I left the great hall that night except that I knew I had to. I went straight to where Harry was but I swear I had no idea he was there. I saw the blood and followed it to find harry almost unconscious his arms were already torn open that way when I got there." a lump rose in Draco's throat and he paused, not looking up from the floor. "He said my name, He said my name when he saw me but that was it."

"That was all he said? Are you sure?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted, Draco glanced up at her and noticed her brow furrowed. Draco nodded.

"I hesitated and I wish I hadn't. Believed me I wish I hadn't waited a single moment. I picked him up and ran. I knew I had to save him because he was supposed to save us all. Nobody else was in the bathroom when I got there and nobody else was there when we left. I didn't cast any spells I didn't even know there was a spell to keep people out until Dumbledore told me a few hours ago. And I know that by my entering this morning it made it look like I was the one who cast the spell but I swear I didn't."

"Wait." she interrupted again holding her hand out to stop him. "you said you went to the crime scene and didn't use any magic?" she asked

"Yes. I just walked right in. and all the blood was still there like it hadn't even been touched and I didn't understand why anyone would just leave that mess there for anyone to see but at the time I didn't know there was a spell up."

"Okay," she said thinking over what he just told her.

"There's more," he said quietly waiting until she motioned him to continue. "I found the thing he used to do it.

"The thing who used to do what?" she questioned confusion clear in her voice. Merlin, they have no idea. Draco thought to himself looking at the woman in front of him sadly.

"The thing Harry Potter used to kill himself with," he stated dully. There really was no way to sugarcoat it, not that he was ever in the business of sugarcoating anything but he held so much respect for this woman it felt wrong to just blurt something like out with nothing to soften the blow. He could see her eyes start to water but she nodded.

"I had a feeling that might of been the case, even tried to voice the option to Albus but he didn't go for it, Said it couldn't be true." Draco looked around spotting a tissue box across the room and stood to get it, offering it to her she smiled and took a tissue "please go on mister Malfoy."

"It was a piece of the mirror of Erised," he said.


	6. Heart

"A part of the mirror?" she asked, staring at Draco in shock.

"Yeah I found it the night Harry tried to," he broke off clearing his throat. "The night Harry almost died. I didn't notice anything wrong with it that night but I wasn't really close enough to it to tell." Draco wasn't to keen on mentioning the fact that he had spent almost that entire night sobbing into his knees. "But when I found it again, this morning, I saw it closer and could see the broken piece I found, fit perfectly." Draco was staring at his hands, trying to force them to be still.

"My knowledge of the mirror or Erised is quite limited in afraid" Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. "Do you still have it?"

"Yes, I yeah I have it," Draco said slowly, the idea of handing it over to anyone still made him feel uneasy. But he pulled it out of his pocket and held it out to her all the same.

"I need to get this to Albus," she said urgently examining the piece of glass as she stood and faced the door of her office.

"He thinks I killed him." Draco's voice almost came out I a whimper.

"Now don't you worry about that," she said simply, walking out of her office. Draco stood on shaking knees and followed her, eyeing the closed curtains surrounding Harry wearily as they passed them. Doubt crashed over him like waves, causing him to stumble slightly.

Ron and Hermione were still standing close to the door, talking to two older men that Draco had never seen before. They were much taller and stood over Ron and Hermione with a kind of authority. Seeing them sent Draco's stomach churning. Hermione saw him first and headed over to him.

"They're here for you," she whispered as soon as she was close enough to be heard.

"Me?" Draco asked hating the squeak in his voice.

"They think you tried to kill Harry. Their Aurors." about that time one of the men looked up from his conversation with Ron and started heading towards Draco.

"Oh, I will have none of this." Madam Pomfrey muttered. turning and handing the shard of glass back to Draco. "Utter nonsense." she continued as she walked away from them and towards the Aurors. "Who sent you here?" he could hear her demand." she lead them away and Draco couldn't hear anymore.

"He cut himself with a broken piece of the mirror of Erised," he said turning to Hermione, frantic to tell her the information she would need to save Harry before the two Aurors could take him away. He showered her the piece of glass in his hand before shoving it back into his pocket forcefully, feeling the edge bite into the skin on his finger. If anyone could save him surely it would be Hermione. The only witch to beat him out in grades.

"That shouldn't be possible." Hermione stuttered. "Even if it were possible I can't imagine the force it would require. The pain, What could he have seen." Hermione trailed off, lost in thought. Draco too wondered what Harry could have seen, what was so bad that it could make the boy who lived want to die?

"Never mind about that how do we fix it? How do we save him?" Draco asked through his teeth.

"We can't, as far as I know, it's not possible. I suppose if we knew what he saw we might have a better chance understanding at least but again."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me Granger." Draco blew up, cutting her off and turning away from the girl, hiding his face in his hands. "Fuck," he growled again. He let his hands fall to his sides and looked around, taking in his current situation. Madam Pomfrey was positively yelling at one of the Aurors who had her by her arm and the other was currently walking towards him. There was no point in fighting them, if there was no way to save Harry then he would be charged with his murder without a second thought. Anger filled Draco until his vision was coated in red. He wouldn't let anyone take him out of this room until he could see Harry Potter. Tears threatened to blur his vision further as the beginning of a planed, admittedly a terrible plan but still it was something, formed in his mind.

He turned to face Hermione again, an apology in his eyes for what he was about to do. He took a few steps closing the distance between himself and Granger and plucked her wand out of its pocket in her robe. He didn't stop long enough to notice how she didn't fight him and willingly let him take her wand. Instead, he focused all his attention, all his panic, all his anger on the Aurors, now just a few paces away from him, and yelled 'stupefy' brandishing Hermione's wand at the men.

Draco didn't wait to watch them fall. He could feel everyone holding their breath for a brief moment before the room flew into chaos, everyone more intent on helping the Aurors then on Draco. And that's exactly what he needed. He slipped through the curtains separating him from Harry almost without anyone seeing. Anyone but Hermione who met his eyes just before he pulled the curtains tightly closed and spelled them locked. He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to see Harry the way he was now but he needed to. He exhaled slowly turning on his heel and almost immediately his heart dropped to the floor. Draco was sure he could hear it shattering like his mother's crystal vase he had knocked over when he was seven.

He looked awful. Merlin, he looked awful. His skin was paler then Draco's making his scar stand out, looking red and angry against the ghostly white he looked. His hair was just as messy as always but it looked limp and the usual shine was gone. And he was so terribly thin. Draco's stomach churned. Harry Potter looked like a fucking corpse.

"Oh, Harry." Draco exhaled, ignoring the way his voice cracked. It no longer mattered now. Not here. Here he didn't have to worry about being a Malfoy. What would it help him now? He bit his lip so hard he could taste a slight hint of blood on his tongue. "Harry why," Draco broke off, glancing away from the boy. "I bet you'd love this." Draco chuckled darkly. "As we speak, there are two Aurors outside these curtains who, as soon as they wake up, will be arresting me for killing you." Draco swallowed hard. "Why," he repeated. His voice finally breaking into a strangled sob. "You had everything, Potter. Friends and family and loyalty. Definitely, things I didn't have." Draco whipped away a tear that had, without permission, fallen down his face. "You know what else I never had potter? A chance. You never gave me a chance." he could barely speak above a whisper now as more tears threatened to break ranks. "All these years could have been so very different if only you had given me a chance. Not that I deserved one." he thought over the past few years. "Yeah definitely didn't deserve it but, I would have changed." he took a few steps closer and placed one of his hands on Harry's. "For you Harry I could have changed." the boy looked so very very fragile.

Draco could hear a commotion outside the curtains and sucked in a breath soon someone would come along and break his spell, take him away. He sucked in a shaky breath.

"I would have loved you harry potter." Draco finally broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"I don't have much more time." Draco pulled himself together and smiled hollowly. "Your life is not your own," he mumbled pulling the piece of glass from his pocket and setting it down on the nightstand, right next to Harry's wand. "My life has always been yours, Harry. For you I could have lived, even in the misery of this war for you I could have lived." he looked back at Harry desperately hoping for him to tell him to sod off or call him a prat. "I would have loved you forever harry," he said again. Twirling Hermione's wand between his shaking hands

"I can't go to Azkaban. I have no place here anymore. My father would likely curse me on sight." he laughed again without any kind of emotion behind it. "No my life is over. It ended with you." Draco set Hermione's wand down and brushed his hand over Harry's. Yes, Harry's wand would do nicely he thought to himself, like the symmetry, the closure it could bring. "You know the Slytherins? They call you a coward for this." Draco paused, whispering the spell under his breath as he pointed the wand at his own wrist. He sucked in a sharp breath as his skin split open. "Guess I'm a coward for you too," he grunted as his wrist began to throb nicely.

"Mister Malfoy, we're giving you a chance to come out on your own and accept your arrest. If you don't, we'll force ourselves in and the outcome won't be pleasant." Draco whispered the spell again, wand pointed to his other wrist.

"I get it, Potter." Draco slid to the floor his back against Harry's bed. "The pressure you were under, I was under it too." Draco dropped Harry's wand "I'm sorry I couldn't save you harry. I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you safe." a last tear slid down Draco's face and the room grew fuzzy. "I'm so sorry Harry," he breathed.

Just as the curtains in front of him were ripped apart Draco's vision began to fade. The last thing he heard was the shocked sounding 'Draco?' before the world slipped away.

Draco died nearly three hours later. Three hours of Madam Pomfrey working over him. Three hours of held breaths and pacing. Three hours of Severus Snape yelling at Albus Dumbledore, throwing the freshly brewed Veritaserum at his head. Three hours after Harry Potter woke up.


End file.
